


Bitter Coffees Shouldn't Sweeten the Heart

by nomjoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bakery AU, Keith is an art student, Klance Secret Santa 2016, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Trans Keith (Voltron), and making keith blush to hell and back, but he denies it/doesn't realize he's in love, lance is just trying to get some money for college, pidge is so done with keith's pining, rated teen for like 2 or 3 uses of cussing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8975029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomjoon/pseuds/nomjoon
Summary: For Klance Secret Santa 2016 (the original prompt will be added to the notes along with the name of the amazing person who gave me this prompt on December 25th)
 And that’s how he found himself groaning against his pillow as it rained cats and dogs outside, his brain running miles an hour as his heart twitched painfully on his chest. He fell for him, and he fell hard. It should not have happened like this, not when Lance – flirty little Lance who was clearly into girls and not into  Keith  – meant so much to him. Romance would ruin what they had, and Keith would blame himself forever if that happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually proud of this one? I never wrote pining characters in my whole life, so idk if I did it "right", but damn am I proud for finishing this fic.
> 
> I can't say much about this or add the original prompt until day 25, so lemme just wish you all happy holidays. Hope you like this one!
> 
> Also, and without giving off any spoilers, the trans Keith part on this story was inspired by how a friend of mine came out to me and his girlfriend. Lance's reaction was a mix of my reaction (who didn't know he was actually a boy and up to that day always treated him with female pronouns) and the one of his girlfriend (who when they met was not, of course, dating him but saw him as a man from the beginning and didn't know he was trans). I never wrote trans characters though, so if anything is inconsistent here, feel free to point it out!

Keith wasn’t exactly planning to fall head over his heels for someone so quickly. Sure, he may have already known the guy from his time at the Garrison High School, but it wasn’t like they ever talked or anything. And yet here he was, groaning against his pillow as the skies poured outside, the chaotic climate strangely matching with the messy thoughts crumbling around inside his head.

His headache had started a few months prior. The hot wind of summer made him sweat from every pore on his body, his hair had acquired a new whole level of oily, and as if that’s wasn’t enough, his binder seemed to have grown more and more constricting than it should actually be. All in all, it was an awful day.

And why was Keith outside? Because Shiro had decided Keith was spending too much time indoors. So all in all, Keith could blame the man for everything going wrong with his life. Because _who the hell_ went to places filled with ovens and warm bread when the sun rays basically burnt everything they touched? Ah, yes: Shiro and his fellow friend Matt. Keith sometimes wondered if those two had lost a few screws when they became teachers at the Altea University.

Shiro and Matt were chatting away as they entered a small bakery in the middle of the city, the place smelling of an intoxicating mix of strawberry jam and freshly baked cookies. The walls were a simple light brown adorned with some large photographs of every sweet imaginable and some occasional flower designs. The two large windows by the doors were enough to illuminate the space, which wasn’t exactly big, and some squared tables were neatly distributed through the place. The counter went from one side of the bakery to the other, leaving a small way for the waiters to walk in and out. Behind it, a few announcement papers were scattered on the wall, their text always followed by some allusive image.

Two of them caught Keith’s eye: one, in big bolded letters, that read “ESPRESSO ONLY 3$ AT THE COUNTER”; and another, which explained “WE ONLY ACCEPT CREDIT CARDS IF THE PRICE IS OVER TWENTY DOLLARS. BANK CHECKS NOT ACCEPTED.” _Good for them_ , Keith guessed. He only liked espressos after all, and he wasn’t planning on paying for his drink anyway. He had two grown up adults here for that.

He was still brooding over being basically kidnapped in the middle of summer when he sat down at the counter, Shiro sitting down beside him and being promptly followed by Matt. Keith didn’t even notice someone was already taking their order, too busy cursing the world and the idiot who took him away from his comfy and inviting bed, until the man in question lightly nudged him on the shoulder.

“What?” he asked, turning to Shiro with a frown. The man only pointed at the counter with his head, making Keith follow the motion.

And that was the moment his pain officially started.

A tall, brown haired boy with eyes like the ocean was staring back at him, head slightly tilted. He bore and expression of expectation, brows raised as his lips formed a thin, yet easy going smile. His hands were holding a small notebook and a mechanical pencil, a few bead bracelets colouring his exposed wrists. 

“Uh-ah… What?” Keith eloquently said, all coherent thoughts leaving his head.

“What are you ordering?” The boy asked. _Lance_. His name tag read Lance, so that probably was the boy’s name.

“I-uh… An espresso. Yes, an espresso, please.” Keith finally said, pointing at the paper behind Lance as if the boy wasn’t already writing his order out with a sly grin.

“An espresso, uh? Think you can handle it? This is no weak American drink we serve here.” The boy joked, sparing Matt a knowing and cheeky look as if recalling an old, funny memory. Keith managed not to gulp, focusing instead on the small rising indignation forming at the pit of his lungs.

“Is that a bet?” He said, coughing afterwards. Lance’s cheeky gaze was now fixated on him. Damn, was it normal to be both attracted and annoyed at the same time?

“Of course not.”

It was a bet. And one Keith almost lost, because woah – why didn’t Shiro tell him they served freacking cuban coffee here instead of the regular ones? That shit was _strong._

But it really didn’t matter. Strong espresso or not, the coffee was not the reason Keith started to come to the bakery. And oh boy, did he wish he had gained shame and never walked in that place ever again.

The second time he came there, Lance gave him a mix of a polite smile and a smirk, leaning on the counter like a wolf playing with its prey. He asked Keith if he was in for another coffee round, which Keith promptly accepted because he was no quitter.

The fourth time, he came alone and sat on the counter, palms sweaty and tightly pressed against his smartphone. Lance came up to him immediately, as if already considering him a long term costumer, this huge grin taking over his face as he urged Keith to try this new menu. Needless to say, Keith gagged and tumbled over his words, ending up with a cake he didn’t actually liked but ate out of spite. Spite, yes; it wasn’t like he only did it to keep Lance from pouting and giving him a kicked puppy look. Of course not. 

By the sixth time, in a span of three weeks, Keith already knew Lance had a particular taste for cheesecakes and banana bread, along with the fact Lance was also a huge flirt with the more easy going costumers. Amazing, Keith’s insufferable brain told him: _he doesn’t find you easy going enough to ask you if you have a map, ‘since he’s lost in your eyes’_. He also knew Lance was a huge fan of pop music and soap operas, and that he could go on and on with a shocked expression about why romance comedies were so much better than criminal shows. Which was strange, since the boy also loved space documentaries and action movies.

The eighth time came with a bonus: Keith found out Lance had an Instagram. It wasn’t like Keith used social media much, but hell with it all if he wasn’t happy to know this handsome man had a way of being contacted outside the bakery.

They were talking, as it was usual since little to no people came to the place between mid-day and four- pm, when the discovery had been made. Between knowing Lance started to work at the bakery to gain some backup money for college and having a long argument over why Star Wars was better than Star Trek, the boy asked him if he had Twitter or something. Keith, who was more of a Tumblr person than anything but was too ashamed to actually share that little fact, said he only used Instagram.

And that’s how he found himself following Lance and staring dreamingly at pictures of him for the rest of the day. Most pictures were either of the Ocean or Lance’s little pug, Blue, but those were Lance actually appeared… Keith sighed, rolling on his stomach as he basically occupied all of Pidge’s bed, the kid giving him an annoyed glance.

“You come into my house, steal my bed, and then have the audacity to act like some anime highschooler who’s in love with their senpai?” Pidge said, kicking him in the side. It barely hurt.

“I’m not in love,” Keith grumbled, swiping down one picture of Lance smiling brightly, some other boy named Hunk laughing by his side as the sun set behind them.

“Of course not.” Pidge said bitterly, crossing their arms. Keith glared at them, putting down his phone.

“I just want to get to know my new … _acquaintance_ better. Is there anything wrong with that?” his tone came out a little bit too defensive, as if Pidge’s words had set him in edge. Pidge raised a brow, lips firmly pressed together.

“ _Acquaintance_? I thought you were friends?”

“I- uh-“ Keith felt his cheeks starting to burn up “We’re not friends exactly. I just- go there a few times? It’s not like he views me as his friend. Do you think he views me as a friend?”

“I don’t know, do you think he knows you’re this gay for him?”

“I’m not!”

Pidge groaned, throwing a pillow at him.

“If I knew you would get like this once your _knight in shiny armour_ appeared, I would have kicked you out of my friend list a long time ago!” 

Keith huffed, throwing the pillow back at them.

“What friend list?” he retorted, snorting when the pillow hit Pidge straight in the face.

The next hour was spent running away from Pidge as they threatened to murder him for dirtying their glasses with Matt’s old pillow. 

.

Keith couldn’t exactly pin point in time when coming to the bakery turned into a habit. Actually, he only stopped to think about it when, in the late days of August, he placed a foot inside it and was quickly ushered inside by an excited Lance.

“Lance, where are you taking me?” Keith asked, feeling his arm burning up where Lance was tugging him. 

“Shhh! You need to see this one before I pack it!” Lance whispered, leading him inside the counter like an excited kid before Christmas “ Spent the whole morning decorating it, but damn does it look fine!”

The cake in question was a rectangular, mostly white thing with a bulging 10 years candle and- wait, was that…?

“Kids still watch this?!” he found himself saying in a rather high pitched tone, his eyes wide scanning the shape of _Voltron_ in sugar paste like a child looking up at Christmas lights. He looked up at Lance, who nodded with an equally excited posture.

“Apparently! Damn, this show was awesome!”

“And _you_ did this?” okay, that came out far more offensive than Keith meant to. Lance slightly frowned.

“Yes?”

“And- how did you know I also loved this show?”

“Cause you told me, duh.”

Keith was agape. First of all, Lance was a bakery genius. Keith was studying arts and would have never pulled off such a thing. Second, Lance had apparently remembered some conversation he and Keith had God knows how long ago, and decided that waiting for him before packing a birthday cake was the best outcome. Third, and least fair of all, the boy was still grinning and looking at him as if remembering such a little detail was the least he could do to their… _friendship_? Is that what they had now?

You see, no one actually cared enough about Keith before to remember such trivial things. Well, there was Shiro, but Shiro was almost like a brother figure to him than anything. Keith knew he was making a fuss about something that was not even that important, but he just couldn’t help himself. Blame the summer heat, if you must. And since we’re at it, blame the damned season for the rising colour on his cheeks too.

“What? Mad you’ll never surpass my brilliant bakery skills?” Lance mused, crossing his arms with a proud smirk on his lips. His eyes, however, were slightly widened and not meeting his, as if something was bothering his mind. Good, Keith thought, now you made it awkward.

“As if,” he grumbled, taking one final look at the cake “I could draw it better.”

“Drawing is not making it come to life.”

“It’s gonna be eaten anyway.”

“People take pictures of their cakes before eating them, you know?”

“The picture is not the real thing-“

“Lance!” a girl called.

Both of them turned around, their heads snapping to meet the annoyed look of Laura, another waitress who worked at the bakery. By what Keith overheard, she was apparently one of Lance’s older sisters. Lance, who was now rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath, grabbing the carton box and putting the cake inside it, the candle almost falling off in the process.

And it was at this moment, as the light coming from the window casted shades of gold in Lance’s soft hair and underlined the chapped form of his thin lips, Keith knew he was fucked up. No man should be allowed to have such bright eyes, which were always filled with determination and sparkled with joy over the simplest things. No man should be allowed to be beautiful even after a whole morning of work and stress. No man should be allowed to be both competitive and caring at the same time. It wasn’t _fair_ that Lance was everything Keith wasn’t, and that Keith liked every inch of him for it.

Keith made his way to the counter, sitting there in silence as Lance finished packing. He wasn’t in a hurry, he had the whole afternoon. Laura was taking care of the few people who entered the bakery and sat at the tables instead of the counter, so he also had, for now, all the time in the world to admire Lance’s work without it being weird.

Lance eventually finished, tugging the bow neatly and placing the box behind him. He looked around the bakery for short seconds before asking Keith if he wanted the usual. And as Lance worked on his espresso, Keith found himself saying something a little bit more loudly than he intended to.

“The cake was fine.” _It was more than fine._

Lance seemed to read between the lines, and for the first time since they met, he smiled. _Actually smiled,_ not just grinned or smirked.

“I know.”

.

The conversation had to come at some point. Shiro knew, Matt knew, Pidge knew, and he was pretty sure Shiro’s new girlfriend knew too. So it was only natural Lance would end up knowing at one point or another, since they were apparently on friendly terms now despite their arguments about which types of music were better or which cakes were tastier.

As much as Keith liked Lance – and he really, _really_ did like Lance -, if the boy didn’t accept that part of him there was no way Keith would continue to enjoy his company. And well, better have a heartbreak now than later, right? Lance would know, one way or another. Keith was already having appointments to be able to take testosterone, and once he starts taking it his body would probably – and thankfully – become visibly different. Or maybe it wouldn’t work at all, but that was nearly impossible and the idea was one more of Keith’s completely illogical anxieties. But anyway, the point was: Keith felt Lance had to know. Call him an idiot for having such a necessity to tell him, but each day he and Lance grew closer and each they the possible outcomes of this conversation played on loop inside Keith’s head, keeping him awake at night.

So he told him. He came to the bakery in the late evening, just as the last drops of summer started to fall before Autumn, and sat on his typical place by the counter. There were not as many sweets and little cookies being exposed as he was used to, and only two tables were taken. Laura was chatting away with the customers sitting on the table by the window, and Lance was finishing off the other one before coming to him with a sigh and a complain of a “long day at work”. 

Keith ordered the usual, his fists clenched on his lap. Lance was talking quickly and, to Keith’s ears, rather loudly about something involving animals and bread, but the words were lost on his ears. His espresso was placed in front of him, Laura was still talking some good feet away, and the other customer was still reading their newspaper. And then there was Lance, standing in front of him, giving him a funny look as if he had already picked on that Keith wasn’t behaving like his usual self.

And then Keith did what he was best at: blurting things out in the most straightforward way possible without actually thinking of them first. He said it, clean and clear, with a tone far too level for what he was feeling, as if the fear of rejection wasn’t consuming his entire soul in the most painful way possible.

Silence. He was met with silence. Keith was afraid to look up.

Lance eventually spoke, voice calm and- warm? Happy? 

_What?_

“Okay.”

Keith looked up at him, eyebrows raised and words stammering.

“Okay-?! What?” He stage whispered, the words almost getting caught on his throat.

“Okay,” Lance repeated, moving his hands and shrugging as if it was not that much of a big deal; as if Keith had worried his mind over nothing “What else do you want me to say? I mean, don’t take me wrong, I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me but… _Yeah,_ okay.”

Keith kept staring at him, cheeks burning up although his heart wasn’t beating as painfully now.

“That’s it? Okay? No stupid questions like ‘does that mean you don’t have a dick’ or-“He stopped, moving his hands up and down repeatedly while trying to find the right words. Keith couldn’t really find other things to say, since basically everyone else he had came out to before didn’t actually view him as a boy to begin with, but damn it all if he wasn’t expecting something along the lines of awkward glances and even more awkward, uncomfortable questions.

He groaned in frustration, bringing one hand to the coffee cup in front of him and busying his hands with it. Lance placed his elbows on the counter, leaning forward and placing one hand on Keith’s arm and smothering the wrinkled fabric of his coat. Keith’s face became redder, fingers twitching had the contact. He could feel the warmness irradiating from Lance’s skin through his clothing.

“Given the situation I-uh… It’s probably okay for me to say it, I guess?” Keith looked up at Lance in confusion. The boy was the one avoiding eye contact now “I… I already had my phase of ‘stupid questions’ when I was younger. My sister-“ he pointed with his head towards Laura “She… She too came out when we were younger. I guess you know what the reaction of my _catholic_ family was.”

Silence fell over them again. Keith really didn’t know how to react to this, except keeping staring at Lance. His brain was running miles an hour, heart struggling to catch its pace as he held in his breath. Lance eventually leaned back again and grinned, crossing his arms over the counter.

“So yeah. _Okay._ Are _you_ okay?”

Keith chuckled, relief washing over him as his brain finally began to function again. 

“ _Okay._ ”

.

Afterwards, life took a smooth turn. College started, Keith decided to look for a job and leave the idea of school for the following year, and Shiro had agreed to let him live with him until Keith had enough money to pay for an apartment of his own. And between living with a nerdy college teacher and staying at the adoption centre he lived his whole life in until he was kicked out for being too old, he would take the former one any time.

He still came to the bakery, and each time he came through those doors Lance would give him more reasons to like sweets and tiny strawberry cakes. Keith never really had a taste for sweet things, but the satisfied look Lance gave him each time Keith decided to have one was worth it. And at one point, the smell of fresh bread and spicy ginger cookies became part of all the things he associated with Lance, so having to try those became a necessity.

And _oh boy_ did he associate Lance with many things which were not edible. 

Lance loved space and could tell by heart the name of all galaxies closer to Earth, as well as point out nearly all constellations and make a list of _all_ the climacteric aspects of _all_ the planets in the solar system. Looking up at the starry skies reminded him of _Lance_ , seeing theory conspiracy videos of aliens (who totally existed, by the way) reminded him of _Lance_ , and even the vaguest dreams of one day going to space became illogical if _Lance_ was not in there with him.

And it wasn’t just space. _Lance_ was on his mind each time Keith passed a dog in the streets, because Lance loved dogs and had a pug named Blue. Cats too reminded Keith of _Lance,_ because Lance really wanted to have at least two once he had a home of his own. Keith saw _Lance_ every time he turned on the radio, because Lance loved those annoying Nicky Minaj songs, and Keith saw _Lance_ every time he turned on the TV and saw some comedy show passing because Lance loved those.

Lance, Lance, _Lance._

All in all, Keith knew he was fucked. He should not have developed such a connexion to Lance, and much less developed such feelings for him.

He had bothered Shiro many times already with questions like “do you think he sees me just as a costumer?”, or “he’s always making fun of my hair, should I cut it? Wait- Do you think he even finds me pretty? Do you think he’s even into _men_?”. All of those had granted him a pat on the shoulder and a mix of a pitiful and amused look, as if the man knew something he didn’t. It was extremely annoying and only served to keep Keith’s nerves up and high, as if the boy didn’t have enough problems already.

And that’s how he found himself groaning against his pillow as it rained cats and dogs outside, his brain running miles an hour as his heart twitched painfully on his chest. He fell for him, and he fell hard. It should not have happened like this, not when Lance – flirty little Lance who was clearly into girls and not into _Keith_ – meant so much to him. Romance would ruin what they had, and Keith would blame himself forever if that happened.

He sat up on the bed and punched the pillow, bed cracking below him. It just wasn’t fair.

Frustrated, he got up and picked his phone, checking the time. Five in the afternoon. Two more hours of peace until his roommate came home and saw him in this miserable state. Two more hours for him to behave like a child instead of facing his problems. But there really was no way to face his problems, was it?

He jumped when the doorbell ranged, the sound scaring his soul out of his body. He scrubbed his face and sighed, thinking it was just the mail.

Until the bell rang again. And again, and _again._

Keith let out a groan and got up, stomping to the door and opening it rather harshly as his robe nearly fell from his shoulders.

The reason of his problems stared back at him, hair dripping wet and a carton box held between trembling hands. Keith froze, hand still on the handler.

“Uh… Hi?” Lance said, giving off a shaky laugh. He shifted from one foot to the other, looking down.

“Why are you… here?” Keith asked. _Way to come off as rude Keith, good job._

“I’m off work and… Look, Shiro paid for this and didn’t come pick it up so…”

The box was pushed against him, Keith barely having time to grab it before Lance gave two steps backwards. Keith stared at him dumbfounded, face beginning to heat up. He was not used to seeing Lance out of the bakery, and he especially wasn’t used to seeing him normal clothes. 

His jacked stayed baggy on his slim, yet clearly worked out body. His jeans were tight on his long legs, the fabric on the knees ripped and the colour a washed out grey. His blue shirt was clinging to his body, the material wet and wrinkled. Lance himself was panting, one hand reaching up to smoother his hair down as the other came to rest on his pocket, his beaded bracelet gluing to his wrist. He looked _fine_ , even though he was dripping water all over the building’s floor.

“The box has plastic inside it, so worry not, the cake is okay.” Lance informed, not meeting his eye.

Keith gulped, looking down at the floor.

“I- Thanks, Lance.” 

“Yeah… Uh- look, my friend Hunk is downstairs waiting for me – he’s the one with a car, you know? – so… See ya around?”

Keith nodded. Lance chuckled and turned to leave, stopping in front of the elevator with one hand raised to the button. Keith held his breath, still too confused and awkward to close the door. Lance then sighed, dropping his hand and turning around.

“Look, I’ll be honest. It wasn’t Shiro. I found out your birthday was, like, two weeks ago and I didn’t give you anything so? Surprise! Happy-late-birthday!” Lance chuckled, scratching the back of his head “I dunno- You said you liked almonds? It’s an almond cake, nothing birthdayish, but hope you like it!”

Keith’s heart clenched and he blushed till the tips of his ears, hands gripping the box like steel. Who would feel bad for not giving a “happy birthday” to someone they met only months prior, and then proceeded to bake them a cake for compensation? Lance apparently.

And that gave Keith one string of hope. One thin, fragile string of hope that would be cut down as soon as his brain regained control. But Keith didn’t want that. He wanted to be confident, even if just for one second, and face up his problems. He wanted to hold onto that tiny string and just be happy. He _needed_ to hold onto that string and be happy.

So before he could go against himself, he did just that.

He stepped forward, pressing the box tightly between his and Lance’s body, and kissed him. It wasn’t an amazing kiss, far from it. Their heads were at an odd angle, the box was jabbing Keith in the ribs, and Lance’s arms were frozen mid-air before realization hit him and he awkwardly placed them on Keith’s shoulders. But it was perfect on its own way. It was perfect for Keith. It was soft, warm, and everything he needed to calm his turbulent soul down.

When they parted, Lance’s breath was hot against his cheek, his face almost as red as Keith’s. And he was _smiling._ Not grinning, not smirking like he did when he flirted with the countless costumers that walked through the glass doors of the bakery every day. He was truthfully smiling, the sight warming Keith’s heart and making him smile too.

Both of them giggled, pressing their foreheads together. 

“Okay, this was- okay.”

Keith nodded, still giggling.

“Yeah. It was fine.”

And that was just the beginning of another headache. But that was one pain Keith was willing to take, if it meant being with the man who smelled like cookies and smiled brighter than the sun.

Keith was okay with it. And Lance didn’t seem to mind.


End file.
